Last week, I got a letter from my grandma telling me NEVER to visit her again. It hit me like a ton of bricks because my grandma raised me and my sisters after our mom died when I was 11.
At first, I thought it was a joke. I called my sisters—turns out they got the same letter.
Grandma’s health had been declining, but we still visited weekly. None of this made sense. She was always loving. Always kind. So I drove to her house.
When I got there, my stomach dropped—the locks had INDEED been changed.
I knocked. No answer. Something felt wrong.
So I decided to stay and watch from around the corner.
Half an hour later, my heart dropped as a young woman approached the door, opened the lock, and entered like she owned the house.
All pale, I rushed inside to see what was going on with my granny. ⬇️ Full story in the 1st comment!
